Tattoo
by Prettylildevil
Summary: Alfred has just turned 18 and what does a rebellious 18 year old American boy want for his birthday? A tattoo of course. The only problem is just what he's getting on his arm forever and you know the needles going into his skin about a thousand times. Lucky his always caring British boyfriend Arthur is there to make it all better. FLUFF. My first USUK!


"Ah," Alfred yelped in pain causing Arthur's heart to sink. He had known this was a bad idea and now he would have to listen to his sweet heart in pain for the next hour and a half. Slipping a bit further down into one of the several hard plastic chairs by the window of the small tattoo parlor they were in Arthur craned is neck to look outside at all the passing people out on the street. It was bad enough to hear Alfred's pain he didn't very well want to watch it all the while not being able to do a bloody thing about it.

It was a clear early-July day outside with seemingly not a cloud in the light blue sky above. A lazily summer breeze blew an old newspaper across the street. Arthur sighed. Why had Alfred chosen this as his birthday gift?

Arthur already knew the answer to his own question. The American had just turned eight-teen today, the legal age in his country to get a tattoo and since his parents had always shown such a great distaste for such things of course he would get one.

A low moan of utter pain drifted into Arthur ear causing the older man to wince slightly. It was going to be a long morning.

The two had met just over a year and a half ago and back then Arthur would have never imagined the sweet loveable high school boy who lived just a block away would be getting a tattoo, let alone of his name.

Yeah, he was getting "Arthur" written across his right upper bicep, in black ink, under his skin, forever.

Thinking about it that way made the Brit to smile faintly, it was sweet in a stupid kind of way. But, that faint grin was almost immediately wiped from his face as he heard Alfred cry out again, this time though it was his name.

"Yeah, Alfred?" he answered before turning around to look at the younger man who was sitting in a black faux leather chair in front of a large mirror. One of his baby blue eyes was closed tight as the tattoo artist continued his work on Alfred's right arm. His short dusty blond hair seeming a bit messy today as he had probably been ruffling it up against the headrest of the chair he was sitting in.

He smiled over at Arthur before saying "Go."

"Go?" Arthur stood up and patted over to Alfred's side, just behind the man injecting ink into his lover's arm.

"Yeah," the American winced in pain from the needle again "just come back in half an hour. I'll be done then."

"I-I couldn't bloody well leave you alone!"

"Well, I know I wouldn't be able to see you in pain like this."

"Well, I certainty do not Like seeing you in pain but-"

"Okay the just leave."

"I couldn't!"

"I want you to."

"You want me to leave!?"

"Yeah, I know you don't like this, so just take a walk!"

The older man shook his head slowly. Maybe he should just go out for a little walk and come back when Alfred was done .But he just couldn't. He had to be there to comfort the younger man. Just as he was about to say 'no way' something caught his eye. A girl and a boy walking down the street, hand in hand, feeding each other French fries. That would make Alfred feel better, right?

After all he did love his junk food and even though it wasn't the healthy (and Arthur really didn't like the name 'French fries') he saw nothing wrong with indulging the younger man every now and again.

And there was a burger joint right down the road too. He could be back in less than twenty-five minutes if he hurried. It was the perfect surprise and after being stuck with a needle literally thousands of times Arthur figured Alfred could use a little indulgent snack.

"Okay fine," the older man huffed and hoped Alfred hadn't seen him glance at that couple outside "I'll be back in twenty minutes then."

Alfred didn't seem the least bit hurt at least not from Arthur as he said "Okay."

Arthur walked slowly out of the parlor as if he didn't have a plan, as if he was just trying to waste some time. When he finally stepped outside he quickened his pace. It was nearly noon and Alfred had just seemed so sad that he just had to get his sweetheart some junk food fast.

With quick strides Arthur made his way down the somewhat busy sidewalk, his hands thrust deep in his slack's pockets. As he got to the end of the block he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his stuffed wallet. Working as a librarian did have its benefits.

He pulled open the door of the dinner and then stepped into the short line of people waiting to place their orders. He and Alfred had came there before on a past date. In fact they had met just a little ways away at the fair grounds at a town wide 'yard sale' one late winter Saturday afternoon. Arthur was paying some sweet old lady for an old book on sewing when Alfred had literary bumped into him. Arthur had to admit he was a little mean at him calling him "Another rude american," that was until the younger man spun around. Then all Arthur could think about was how blue his eyes were.

"Yeah?" a man behind the front counter asked as Arthur stepped up, snapping him out of his little trip down memory lane.

"Yes, um," he glanced up at the menu hanging behind the cashier before ordering, two orders of fries and a cheeseburger.

The cashier nodded "Coming right up, sir" he said with no enthusiasm at all.

Arthur then stepped to side to wait. And before too long he had already paid and was out the door, back to the parlor with his lover's treats.

He grinned a bit as he walked along back to tattoo parlor Alfred was probably already done.

And he was right. He pushed open the glass door just as the young American stood up and shook the artist hand.

"Done yet?" The brit asked.

"Yeah," the taller boy answered as he walked over to his boyfriend.

The two left, Alfred talking the older man's ear off about how cool the 'tat' was and how he planned to get more all the way down his arm. The elder man kept quiet. He was too busy thinking about how much pain his poor little Alfred must have been through, although he was tough the American didn't exactly love needle. Plus it did make him feel a little awkward what with his name now permanently plastered on his boyfriend's arm. They were half-way back to the Jones' house, where Alfred still lived, before Alfred noticed the white paper bag in Arthur's hand.

"Hey dude?"

"What?"

"What's in the bag?" his soft blue eyes widened a bit. Yeah that was how much he loved fast food.

"Oh this?" Arthur asked coyly, he loved to tease Alfred about his eating habits even though his weren't that much healthier. Drinking tea and eating biscuits every afternoon and then sneaking a few more after dinner wasn't exactly the perfect diet.

Alfred suddenly kissed Arthur's cheek. The brit blushed and stopped at the street corner as his lover kept on walking. What the bloody… And then the younger man started to walk faster and faster.

And then Arthur saw it "Hey!" He called as he started after the other boy.

Alfred had snatched the food from Arthur's hand and was now rushing down the street his t-shirt's sleeves billowing up expose the white bandage wrapped tightly around his right bicep. Arthur smiled at the sight of it, no matter what happen and no matter the distance between them, he could always remember that Alfred loved him enough to go through all that pain. And although he would never say it out loud (mostly because of how cheesy it was) Arthur knew he already had a tattoo because of Alfred. A tattoo on his heart.


End file.
